


discovering

by thornapple (survivalinstinctvalkyria)



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Eso entry, I can't guarantee that this is canon compliant, M/M, a healthy dose of fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 07:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19807789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/survivalinstinctvalkyria/pseuds/thornapple
Summary: “I thought it was good.”And, either way, I want you to think of me as a friend before anything else, goes unsaid, because his mind is clouded with a new discovery:'I want to know everything about him.'//A fic for ESO, with the prompt "discovery".





	discovering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mofumanju](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mofumanju/gifts).



> Nari (@/mofumanju on Twitter) drew an accompanying drawing for this fic, please check it out:  
> ["He takes one limp hand into his own and presses a soft kiss to each of his knuckles, feeling a little stupid but mostly fond. It's a good feeling, the emotion that's always hiding under all the irritation and aggravation whenever the two bicker."](https://twitter.com/mofumanju/status/1150439895749529600?s=09)
> 
> I passed out several times while writing this, but it's done at last.  
> (I managed to sleep through the deadline, so it's a bit late //)

The faint ticklings of a melody brush Keito's ears, accompanied with the quiet _thumps_ of feet hitting vinyl, carrying a lithe body with elegant footwork unprecedented in the door walls of the hospital room. There's a voice, too, confident despite its reticence, meant for only the ears of the singer, clearly, with how the strain of holding back fades away and melts into something beautiful.

But Keito's listening, and watching from a crack of the door he'd pushed ajar thoughtlessly. How callous he'd been just moments ago — callous and regretfully unaware of the fact that the performer before him had gone right under his nose for all these years, a vat of untapped potential.

Suddenly, the reserved smile curved over Eichi's lips stretches wider, free and genuine, as he spares the mirror a wink, flushed from the exertion, giddiness, and the slight embarrassment of winking at mirror. Keito's fingers itch, the starch white of the hospital walls become canvases as each movement Eichi makes is burned into Keito's memory and spilled onto the walls.

Thirteen is a ripe age for the imagination, so his mind jumps at the possibilities presented, and again he's lost at the pretty jut of Eichi's collarbone, for once not a reminder of his fragility, but of strength.

The choreography demands intricate hand motions and airy steps that would suggest Eichi's dancing over clouds, the elegant pretense fading away as the chorus swells and lifts Eichi off his feet entirely.

Just in time, the music fades, leaving Eichi standing triumphantly in the center, heaving yet undeniably powerful in the moment when his surroundings melt away completely.

It's Keito's, "I didn't know you dance," that pulls Eichi out of his reverie. Eichi jolts, spinning on his heels to meet Keito’s eyes.

“I never told you,” Eichi huffs.

In other words, it was a secret Eichi had kept from him. The thought is a bitter pill that his throat wants to reject — Eichi keeping a secret from him? That’s preposterous! — but he forces himself to swallow and accept that he can’t know everything about the blonde before him.

“Why?”

Eichi leans backwards, catching himself on his right foot and averting his eyes. “You think it’s stupid, don’t you?”

“No. Why would I?”

“I’m supposed to be your perfect childhood friend, aren’t I?” He’s not. “I don’t want you to suddenly change your perception of me!”

“Why do you care so much about what I think? You’ve never cared.”

“Of course I care what you think!” He bites his lip. “You’re… an artist, you know? If you don’t like something, then that means it’s seriously flawed. I wanted to wait until I was good enough to show you. Nngh, it doesn’t matter.”

He tries to take a step toward the door, but Keito grabs his wrist to stop him.

“I thought it was good.”

 _And, either way, I want you to think of me as a friend before anything else,_ goes unsaid, because his mind is clouded with a new discovery:

_I want to know everything about him._

* * *

_Everything about him_ turns out to be a lot more than expected. He presses Eichi on the whole dancing-and-singing-thing, and finds out these three things in this order:

1) Eichi admires idols, and wants to be one.(This is semi-surprising. Eichi’s preordained path of life is already set, and his health would certainly forbid this kind of thing, but Keito’s got to admit that with his charisma and grace, he’s already got the workings of an idol.

2) The idol industry is full of lazy performers who only care about money and fame and don’t deserve the title of idol (which Eichi seems to have given a truckload of weight) — and Eichi wants to do something about it.(This is more surprising. Those kinds of people exist everywhere — hell, it’s because so many of those people exist that Keito is Eichi’s only friend — and Keito had thought that Eichi had long accepted this fact. Never had he thought that _idols_ would be the thing that caught Eichi’s attention.)

3) In order to do this, Eichi is going to enroll in _Yumenosaki Private Academy_ (that idol school that Keito had heard of but never spared a second thought to) and use his family’s influence to control the school and rid the industry of filth.

(This the most surprising. A little over twenty minutes ago, Keito’s only concerns had been: a) please say Eichi hasn’t tried to escape again, b) what the hell did [insert cryptic comment from one Rei Sakuma that Keito can’t quite remember nor understand] mean?, and c) if Hotaro threatens to show our parents my sketch book one more time I _will_ kill him. But now, he’s sitting next to Eichi and listening to him going on about turning a highschool into a dictatorship and ridding an entire industry of puss and filth, and the following concerns have been added to the list: a) can Eichi even survive going to an idol school?, b) would Eichi’s parents allow this?, and c) what will happen if Eichi goes and finds all new, cooler idol friends and leaves Keito behind?)

He isn't quite sure what to say, so he starts by scolding Eichi.

"All this daydreaming and you won't even be able to pass the entrance exam. Not that passing it would be good for your health, you know!"

Scolding is familiar territory, a gentle reminder of Keito's affections without making it glaringly obvious that he's looking for something more. Ahh, this is why he's at an impasse, isn't it?

It's nice, though, that he can still reach over and pinch Eichi's cheek.

"Owwww," Eichi pouts, drawing out the syllable. "That _hurts._ Give it a kiss to make it feel better."

"What are you, five?" Keito gripes, more to fit the routine he's laid out to himself and less of genuity — he really _would_ like to kiss Eichi's cheek.

Eichi just pinches Keito's cheek in retaliation, pulling him closer so that he can press his lips to the red discoloration of skin.

Keito's heart stops.

There's no etiquette for this, no suggestion of how he should act in the case that _the boy he would probably die for_ kisses him on the cheek. He sucks in a breath, suddenly wondering why he had never asked Rei about dealing with a crush (the answer is that it would be too embarrassing and he'd be teased too much).

"See? That made you feel better, didn't it?"

His heart starts beating again.

Because there's no reason that he should just up and die because his stupid childhood friend always has to make the most immature jokes. He shouldn't overthink it, the way that Eichi keeps teasing him with drops of affection, little moments that scream the exact opposite of what Keito's drilled into his mind, only to then turn back around and proclaim it as a jest — God, if he doesn't love it.

Keito… has hands. This is not a discovery, per say, but… well, he may have discovered a new use for them. Nothing's stopping him from grabbing Eichi's wrists and pinning him to the bed to give him a taste of his own medicine, except for Keito's own insecurities and nagging doubts (and also the fact that Eichi would possibly have a heart attack, which he'd like to avoid, thanks).

Keito blows Eichi a solid punch in the stomach, instead of pinning him to the bed and kissing him senseless.

(Eichi subsequently complains that Keito is heartless and absolutely no fun, but he doesn't understand that it was the better alternative.)

After a solid minute of Eichi making a fool of himself by over exaggerating how much pain he's in, Keito pushes him off the bed.

"You're so mean, Keitoooo! Are you embarrassed?"

Very much so, thanks for realizing.

"Do the dance again," he grumbles, urging Eichi to stand by prodding him with his toes. "And every mistake you make is another minute that I'll lecture you for endangering your health by dancing instead of resting."

Eichi stares at him quizzically for a moment before his face melts into a grin.

"Love you too, Keito."

_Thank you for understanding._

The moment of pure joy flooding Keito's system proves to be finite, however, because Eichi promptly slaps his knee.

He deserves it, though, and he soon discovers that having Eichi wink at _him_ is much better than watching Eichi wink at a mirror.

* * *

When classes dismiss, Eichi isn’t quite sure what to do. During junior high, he’d always kept to himself, finding a secluded area in the courtyards and eating in solitude. It hadn’t bothered him then, but now, faced with the task of assembling a unit to carry out his plans, he instead darts his eyes around the classroom, eyeing up every student and mentally grading them based on their immediate appeal.

Eventually he follows the herd, winding up in a quaint little terrace packed to the brim with seating and students. He sits down on a bench near the entrance, content to enjoy a moment of silence as he people-watches.

 _The food looks good,_ he thinks idly, sparing his ostentatiously expensive-looking bento a glare. _I wonder if I should decline my bento tomorrow._

As he eats, he wonders who Keito's eating with right now. Maybe he's off in the corner all by himself, doodling absentmindedly as he pointedly pushes the soybeans in his bento away from the rest of it. What if he's already found a friend, and is engaged in an active conversation with some like-minded individual while Eichi mopes in the corner of the terrace.

He's too focused examining one boy sporting bright red hair, pleasantly rough in appearance, too realize that someone is looming over him. Too late he redirects his vision to see a familiar glasses-clad teenager dumping a pile of soybeans into his bento.

"What."

It's more of a statement than a question, a word that tumbles through his throat in a way that his normally elegant speech would never allow.

"What," he repeats, "are you doing?"

Keito quirks an eyebrow, as if to say _isn't it obvious?_

"Here," he says after another moment. "What are you doing here?"

Keito's stare melts into something almost fond, and he'd appreciate it if he didn't feel like ripping his lungs out.

"Someone needs to watch over you, hm?"

The words are accompanied by a hand reaching to pinch his cheek playfully, but Eichi slaps it away and petulantly glues his gaze, furrowed brows and bitten lip and all, to the ground.

"I'm a high schooler, Kei— _Hasumi-kun,_ I can take care of myself." He meets Keito's eyes only to glare at him. "I don't need someone who isn't mature enough to eat his vegetables to take care of me, anyway."

"You piece of shit," Keito begins, before he realizes that he's playing into Eichi's trap, and sighs, "Eichi…"

"What, Hasumi-kun?" His vision is back to examining the stone flooring. That same hand from before grabs his chin to force his eyesight up, and Eichi makes a point to dig his heel into the vamp of Keito's shoes. "Shouldn't you be at some other school right now?"

"This was my own choice."

"Was it really? I somehow doubt that."

"This isn't the time for you to pull that nonsense, Ei— _Tenshouin._ ”

“Stop treating me like a child! What, do you think I’m incapable?” Eichi seethes. “I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t think I could manage. Do you think I’m too sickly to do the things that I’ve set out to do?”

“Oh, so a friend decides to do something nice for you and you need to fault him for it?”

“This isn’t _something nice for me_ , you idiot!”

Glaring for another minute, Keito rolls what must be an insult over his tongue, before sighing and trudging away, leaving Eichi and his soybeans behind.

Eichi makes a point to avoid eating them.

He does the same the day after, and the day after that, and the week after that, because every day following the day they stop speaking, Keito arrives briefly to dump the soybeans from his bento into Eichi's.

* * *

Eichi's able to start avoiding Keito once _fine_ has been formed, and he finally has something to devote all his time to. He can almost understand why Tsumugi is so desperate to give himself up to other people the way he does — it's easier to not think about your regrets or all the ways you're falling short when you've drilled a _this is my routine_ mindset into your everyday life.

He manages like that up into their second year, when _fine_ stays the same always except for the fact that his plans are now really being put to fruition, and Deadmanz has a new first year tailing behind Rei and Keito.

"I'm surprised Mr. Busybody has time to be paying attention to whatever Deadmanz is doing," Hiyori says after Eichi tries to inquire what Deadmanz even plans to do with this boy.

"Rei Sakuma is a part of Deadmanz, of course I pay attention," he mumbles back, picking at today's helping of Keito-sourced soybeans ("Oh my God, he's still doing that? That's the kind of commitment I want from my husband," had been Hiyori's comment, and Eichi was veering closer and closer towards murdering him).

"Your crush is also a part of Deadmanz," Hiyori hums, looking a little too pleased with himself when Eichi can't snap back immediately. "But I guess we're ignoring that."

" _Mr. Busybody_ doesn't have time for crushes."

"Mhmmm. Why do you even like him, anyway? I mean, I get that he's hot, but from what you and Tsumugi-kun have said about him, he isn't exactly crush-worthy. He lectures like he's got a stick up his ass!" The words dance through the air as though they aren't poison on Eichi's skin, before Hiyori jumps with an exaggerated _oh!_ "Is that your kink, Eichi-kun?"

"Stop it," Eichi demands, kicking Hiyori's ankle under the table — he doesn't want to think about the developing lump weighing down his stomach every time he sees a pair of glasses that don't belong to Tsumugi. "It's not like that. And, in case you hadn't noticed, we're not exactly on speaking terms right now."

"Yeah, yeah, but that's why you're so infatuated with him, right?" Hiyori dismisses lazily. When Eichi sputters slightly — it'd be unnoticeable to anyone else, but Hiyori's the devil incarnate — Hiyori waxes a sigh. "I can't decide whether I understand you or don't — your tastes are awful."

"I don't like him _because_ we're not talking."

"Then why do you?"

"I don't—" He groans. "I hate you."

"Just answer the question, Eichi-kun. I'm really helpful when it comes to love."

"You're a gossip queen is what you are."

"Oh, shut it."

"No. And there's nothing for me to tell you, so stop bothering me and eat."

"You can tell us, Eichi-kun. I've been talking to Keito-kun, so maybe I could put in a good word for you?" Tsumugi finally speaks up from the edge of the bench that he and Eichi share. _He'd been listening?_

Eichi elegantly spits out his soybeans, because the thought of _Tsumugi_ putting in a good word for him with _Keito_ is too absurd to bare.

His crush is absurd in itself, he reasons a second later. Back when he and Keito were speaking he'd always seen Keito as nothing more than a friend, but now that they're in this sort of limbo where every interaction between them is bathed in a healthy dose of (not sexual, by God, it's _not_ sexual) tension, he finds that every word from Keito is like a drug. Maybe it's because he'd taken Keito for granted before this, and had never really paid attention to all the little details about Keito that make him so appealing. It's unfair, because he's pretty sure Keito had a crush on him when they were in junior high, a crush that Eichi had (surely) effectively killed when he'd lashed out against him in their first year.

"Even though you and Keito-kun aren't _speaking_ ," Tsumugi takes a bite out of his bread, "You're, uh, communicating, aren't you?"

"For lack of a better term, yes."

Eichi's not _stupid._ When Keito still showed an interest in his ideals, Eichi hadn't hesitated to let him work from the sidelines, taking on the tasks he'd been unable to do himself.

"You know what would be hilarious?" Hiyori prompts, but doesn't wait for a response. "What if Keito-kun isn't interested in your ideals, but is actually in love with you and thinks this is his only chance with you?"

You know how it feels when you've perfectly braced yourself to accept the worst (eg. your childhood friend hates you know) and have built all your defenses around that one thought, when suddenly, a cannon comes him from behind you? Yeah, that's what Eichi's feeling.

After a moment of silence, Tsumugi offers, "That idea could make for some nice lyrics, don't you think?"

Eichi doesn't talk much for the rest of lunch, willing himself to forget all of those little discoveries he'd made too late.

* * *

The two had been getting along fairly well, even eating lunch together on the one day that Eichi had resolved to eat by himself. Keito had been calling him _Eichi_ and they had reminisced a bit and it had been _nice._

Somewhere between his complaints about Rei's fickleness, and his exasperation towards Koga, Keito had slipped in a request for Eichi.

It had been simple, really. All he had to do was go around that underground club and act like a naive rich kid. The delinquents apprehending him had even been paid in advance, for God's sake.

He'd been a little excited for it, to be honest. Maybe it'd been the fault of that that his health hadn't permitted being tied up in such a bustling area.

Ten minutes into being tied up, he had already began to feel light-headed. He'd spaced out and started shivering nonsensically — the room was humid. One of the 'delinquents' even went to buy him snacks and a water bottle.

After Chiaki had rescued him (was that a part of the plan? He couldn't remember - his head was somewhere else, dashing between the crease of Keito's brow in a daydream), his driver had arrived, and, after taking one look at him, drove him to the hospital instead of home.

That's how he landed here, in the hospital, hooked up to and IV and absolutely miserable. He's outgrown lying here uselessly, hasn't he? He has things to do, people to talk to, lives to schedule—

"You lied to me."

Keito's voice cuts in sharply from the doorway. He stands there, his lips quivering and his eyes red in a livid hysteria. His voice wobbles on the words, falling to silence just so that Eichi can listen to his footsteps as he makes his way to the blonde's bedside with a growing sense of paranoia.

"You said you'd be alright, you said you could do it, and look where we are now."

"I'd been wrong, I suppose."

" _No,_ " Keito assures firmly. "You knew, and you kept it from me. And I was stupid enough to believe you."

"I'm fine, Keito."

"Why should I trust you? I thought we were finally starting to get along again, but it looks like I can't even be trusted with this."

"Do you expect me to just sit around and watch you from the sidelines? This is my fight to win."

"It's _our_ fight, Eichi, and if you keep pushing yourself like this, there won't be an _us._ "

"If it's _our_ fight, then I shouldn't be forced to watch from where I sit uselessly! Everyone else can commit themselves to anything they want to, so no one understands what it's like to constantly told to _sit still, Bochamma_ every time I step slightly out of their comfort zone!"

"We're doing it to keep you safe!"

"Yes, you're keeping me safe by strapping me to a hospital bed, because everyone wants to feel like _that useless boy in a hospital bed_ at least once in their life."

"Eichi, I'm telling you—"

"It's fine, Keito, just get out."

"Eichi."

"Get _out._ "

The words are bitten out in contempt, like frost against their skin. He can see Keito's growing discomfort at the tension in the room, and counts to three before the other boy resigns himself with a sigh and shuffles out.

He soon discovers that hospital visits are a lot harder when you can't count on the person you consider your safe place to be there.

* * *

In the week following, his aggravation, having been given ample time and material to breed, is boiling inside him. Tsumugi and Hiyori are at his heels today, following him towards an abandoned classroom, with Nagisa nowhere to be found.

There are three in the classroom, namely the three members of Deadmanz. Upon seeing them, Hiyori exclaims a little _"oh!",_ while Tsumugi curls in on himself.

"Ya need somethin'?" Rei acknowledges after examining each of them.

"Oh, yes," Eichi answers. "I'd… like to give Hasumi-kun a bento I made. If he'd have it, of course."

Koga makes a little _haaah?_ noise off to the side as Rei wolf-whistles. Instantly, Keito stiffens, face going an incriminating shade of red as he elbows Rei's side.

"Oh my gosh, you're finally confessing your feelings!" Hiyori gushes from the doorway, and Keito sputters.

His movements are disjointed as he stands, meeting Eichi at the center of the room. His face is the epitome of confusion as he accepts the bento from Eichi's grasp, and Eichi _relishes_ it.

Especially satisfying to him is the way that the quiet anticipation over Keito's face melts into a poorly-masked disappointment when he opens the bento to see it stuffed full with soybeans.

He doesn't hesitate to dump the lunch's contents over Eichi's head, earning a snort from both Tsumugi and Rei. Koga complains in the background (something about the mess and Akiomi), but it falls to deaf ears as Eichi reaches to grab some of the soybeans from his head and deposit them in his mouth.

There's a moment of silence when Eichi leans forward to kiss Keito, pushing the soybeans from his mouth into Keito's. Then, the room erupts into a frenzy, with Hiyori squealing and Rei applauding them, backed by Koga's barrage of expletives.

"Get a room!" he (mostly) wails.

 _Or I can torture him in front of his junior,_ Eichi thinks with a devilish delight, before he feels a strong hand gripping the back of his blazer.

Hiyori drags the two of them out into the deserted hallway.

"I'm not making out with you, I'm still mad," Eichi says instantly, clamping a hand over Keito's mouth.

"Thish ish a pretty shitty thing t'do," Keito slurs around the soybeans.

"You made me feel pretty shitty last week, you know."

"I'm…" a ragged cough against his palm, "Eichi, please."

"No." Then, on second thought: "If you swallow them I'll let you kiss me again."

Keito's face flushes red, but he makes no attempt to swallow. Instead, he rips Eichi's hand away from his palm and spits out the mess into Eichi's blazer.

"When I kiss you next time, it'll be a mutual thing," he explains.

"What makes you think there'll be a next time?"

"There's always a next time with you," Keito grumbles. "Usually it involves endangering yourself, though. Anyway, walking around like this is a dress code violation."

"... I hate you so much."

"The feeling's mutual."

 _Give it a year,_ Eichi thinks to himself, _give it a year and rediscover why you were so in love with this asshole in the first place._

* * *

A year later, Keito is watching Eichi sleep I'm the student council room. A strand of hair is matted to his face, and Keito's having a serious internal conflict over whether that or the relaxed curve of his lips is the object of his fascination.

He takes one limp hand into his own and presses a soft kiss to each of his knuckles, feeling a little stupid but mostly fond. It's a good feeling, the emotion that's always hiding under all the irritation and aggravation whenever the two bicker.

"Nngh," Eichi groans, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he readjusts to the light. The thing that strikes Keito the most when he finally opens them to look at Keito is the familiarity in his gaze, the look of someone who's returned home after a battle overseas. It fills him with that same fondness from earlier, coupled with the startling thought of _I want to watch him wake up like this by my side for the rest of our lives._ "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes." _Very cutely, might I add._

"You should have woken me up. I hate it when you coddle me like this — it makes me feel useless."

"You're not—" Eichi shakes his head. "Oi, listen to me. You fell asleep because you pushed yourself too hard. Seeing you fall asleep after a long day of work encouraged our juniors to rest themselves, so it was actually for the better."

The corner of Eichi's mouth is upturned in a smirk. "It's alwaaaays about our juniors with you, isn't it?"

"Well." Keito tries to think of something cool to say, but he flushes hotly and ends up mumbling the first bit of garble that sounds acceptable in his head into Eichi's ear. " _I_ liked watching you sleep, too. To see you fall asleep just like that, it made me feel like what we've been working so hard for — the two of us together — hasn't been some delusion. It makes me wonder what you're dreaming about… maybe it's the dream that we share." He feels Eichi shiver as his breath covers the blonde's ear like a blanket, and inches closer.

"You sound vaguely romantic, Keito. Are you going to kiss me?"

"I told you last year, didn't I? The next I kiss you, I want it to be mutual."

"I don't have any soybeans in my mouth," Eichi offers, feigning disinterest even though he's leaning in for a kiss.

Keito meets him halfway, briefly pressing their lips together as he squeezes Eichi's hand gently.

"The next time we kiss, you'll have told me that you love me," he decides in the next moment.

"What? Why do you get to decide the criteria for all our kisses now?" Eichi pouts, but he doesn't really look displeased.

"Ever since you decided that kissing me with a mound of soybeans in your mouth was a good idea."

"Boo, you're no fun."

Even so, he isn't blind. He can see Eichi mouthing _I love you_ to himself, trying to make the words around his tongue until they can glide out as smooth as honey.

"When I'm able to tell you _I love you,_ you'd better make me weak in the knees."

"I'll work on it."

Eichi laughs, slowly, a bit testingly, glancing at both his sides to make sure there's no one is around for him to discover.

What he ends up discovering is the mound of papers that had been abandoned in exchange for _Eichi sleeping,_ and a hand gripping onto his own, more gentle than be thinks he deserves. It doesn't let go as they change positions, the two of them now curled up on the painfully small sofa of the student council room.

Later, they'll be discovered for sure, but for now, they're content to explore the parts of each other that they'd always overlooked, content to bask in every newfound discovery just waiting in each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Looking back at this fic is so surreal because it doesn't seem like something I would write

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A feather kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19805545) by [mofumanju](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mofumanju/pseuds/mofumanju)




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